


Steady

by Ohshitmyship



Series: Season 12 One Shots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Guns, Happy, M/M, One Shot, Shooting, Talking, honestly it's just happiness and guns man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 04:15:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7207475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohshitmyship/pseuds/Ohshitmyship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary is back. Sam is missing. Dean is alive. Cas is back at the bunker. So much has happened and will happen, that Dean can appreciate the quiet moments with his mother and his angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steady

  
"Steady"

Dean sat on his bed, mulling everything over.

It had been an entire day since he had returned to the bunker with Cas and his mom. He still had a hard time comprehending what had actually happened.

He and been sent on a kamikaze mission to defeat Amara. But he had somehow managed to talk to her and figured out that what she truly wanted was not to destroy the Earth, but get her brother back. Chuck and Amara made up, rid Dean of the thousands of souls churning inside of him, and vanished, severing Amara's tie with Dean. He was relieved, but strangely empty. That tie, no matter how much he hated it, had become a part of him. He was glad that it was gone, he really was. He had felt such a terrible attraction to her and he still didn't know what it was. He knew it wasn't love, or desire. He knew both of those feelings like the back of his hands. It was gone, and it felt odd.

But that was the least of his problems.

When Dean had been dropped in the middle of nowhere and stumbled upon his mother, he didn't know what to think. But it soon became apparent by what the God-siblings had meant: they gave him his mother back.

The two of them had walked to the nearest motel, checking in for the night. Not that they really needed it; they stayed up until dawn, just talking. It hadn't been until then that Dean had even thought to call Sam. He still felt a little bad, since everyone thought that he was dead. But to his worry, Sam hadn't picked up. He immediately called Cas, his heart pounding in his ears as the phone rang.

"Hello? Dean?" Cas's voice had been Dean's relief.

"Yeah, Cas. It's me."

"You're alive?" Dean remembered the happiness he heard in Cas's voice, "B-but how? I don't understand. You didn't even make it to Heaven, I asked around but-"

"Cas, slow down," Dean had said, "I'm fine, and I never actually died. I'll fill you in later, but what's up with Sam? He's not answering."

"Dean," Cas had said warily, "Something...happened."

The next hour consisted of Dean pacing the room and listening to Cas's account of what happened: the two of them walking into the bunker to find a British woman with blood dripping down her arm. She had banished Castiel before he could find out anything more, sending him to Heaven. There, he had gone searching for Dean, only to find that he wasn't there. Wasn't even on the list. When he had returned, desperate to find Sam and track down Crowley, Sam had already gone, most likely with the woman.

Dean sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes as he continued to mull over his thoughts. Within the last 72 hours, he had been made into a soul bomb, sent off God and his sister, gotten his mom back, returned to the bunker, and lost his brother. Naturally, the next course of action would be to track Sam down, but that was almost impossible to do. The warding on Sam's ribs that Castiel had put there oh so long ago was still there. If the woman and whomever she worked for were after Sam, they were probably after Dean too. But Dean at the time had been presumed dead, so they wouldn't exactly try to make contact with him. The only lead they had was that the woman had been British, which wasn't much to go on. There was no way to tell whether or not she had even taken Sam back to Britain, and if she had, that was still a large country with a lot of ground to cover, with even more places to hide.

"Typical," Deam grumbled into his hands, "Just as things start to perk up, it all comes crashing down."

"It's an occupational hazard," Mary said, leaning against the doorframe. She had changed into the clothes they had bought her: some jeans and a black shirt. She had found one of Sam's flannel shirts and put that on, even though it was far too big on her. She smiled softly at Dean before sitting down next to her son on the bed, "That's why I left the life and never wanted you to see it. Its so hard to leave this behind," She sighed heavily, rubbing Dean's back, "I'm starting to think it's not possible."

"Nah." Deam smiled dryly, "It's possible. Not too long ago, we met two married hunters. The one was only trying to help his husband get revenge on the thing that killed his brother. We helped kill the things and when we parted ways, they retired. So it's possible, but it's just crazy rare."

"That it is," Mary said, "I tried so hard to make sure that my boys never had to grow up the way I did. But you had it so much worse. If only I hadn't gone into that room..."

"Hey," Dean said, "Hold on. This is in no way your fault. For God's sake, you died! Besides, how is the way that we grew up any different?"

Mary sighed heavily, "When I was a little girl, I had a home. I went to school with my friends. I had a mother. I lived a normal life, aside from the hunting."

Dean shrugged, "Life on the road was hard. I won't argue that. But it wasn't all bad. We always got to see new places, meet new people. We went to school. To be fair, Sam took that a lot me more seriously than I did. We didn't have you, but we did have Dad." Dean grinned, "And who's to say we didn't have a home? The car was all the home we've ever needed. And now we have this place!"

Mary smiled but it soon turned sad, "Dean, you and your bother have had to go through so much. You've done things that most hunters can't even dream of. You live in an abandoned Men of Letters bunker with an angel! You openly deal with the king of Hell and his immortal witch mother and I'm sure you have done much worse that you haven't told me yet." Her smile turned fond and she hugged Dean tightly.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered, "This isn't exactly the life I wanted you to live, but you've done so well and helped so many people. I'm so, so proud of you, and your father would be too. And don't worry, we'll get our Sam back. Nothing, not even Death, can keep Winchesters apart forever."

Dean hugged her back tightly and savoured the moment. It finally hit him that his mom was alive and here, with him. He didn't even care when he felt tears sliding down his cheeks. He was just so happy to have her back. It was like he was a kid again.

Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door, followed by a hurried and awkward, "Oh. I'll come back later."

Dean and Mary pulled apart, Dean wiping his tears away. Cas stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

Dean smiled, "Come here, ya birdbrain." He patted the mattress beside him and Castiel walked over and sat himself down. Dean slung an arm around him and brought Cas closer to him.

"At least we're together now," Dean said with a grin, "All we need is little Sammy, and we're practically a family again!"

Cas smiled and looked at Mary behind Dean's back. She smiled back at him and it conveyed how happy she was that her son had found Castiel. The two of them hadn't really gotten a chance to talk to each other. In fact, Mary knew almost nothing about Castiel aside from the facts that he was an angel, he started out rough but slowly came to earn the boys' trust, and even become part of their family. Mary's motherly instincts told her that Dean wasn't telling her everything about Cas, but if her boys could trust him, that would be enough for her.

For a little while, they stayed like that; the two leaning into Dean peacefully, savouring the quiet.

After some time, Mary gently stood up and faced the boys. Cas had sat up straight but hadn't moved away from Dean.

"I'm going to do some shopping," She announced with a smile, "Tonight, I'm making you boys a home-cooked dinner. God knows that you've gone long enough without it."

Dean scoffed, "Come on! I picked some stuff up, and I cook occasionally."

"Occasionally is not often enough," Cas argued.

"You don't even eat," Dean pointed out.

Mary looked at him in confusion, "You don't eat?"

Castiel shook his head, "Sadly, no. I did enjoy food when I was human, for a short time. But when I tried to eat again, it just tasted like molecules. Quite nasty, really. But I like the smell of food."

Mary nodded, deciding to take it in stride, "Then I'll cook something up with a smell so strong, you can taste it. You boys deserve it."

Both Cas and Dean smiled gratefully up at Mary. Dean had nearly forgotten how good it felt to have a mother.

"Alright," Dean said happily, standing up with a stretch, "I'll come with you."

"No need for that." Mary waved her hand dismissively, "Tonight is all me. I've been dead for over thirty years. It's high time that I started cooking again."

She hugged Dean and pulled back, walking out of the room.

"I'll take one of the other cars," She called, "I should be back in a few hours."

Dean and Cas waved as she left, listening to her pad down the hall and out of their earshot.

"I like her," Cas said after a moment. He was still seated on the bed and staring at the empty doorway.

Dean turned back to Cas with a smile, "I knew you would. C'mon." He gestured for Cas to follow him as he left the room, "I've been meaning to teach you something."

Castiel stood up and followed curiously, "Teach me?"

"Yup," Dean said over his shoulder with a smirk, heading towards the indoor shooting range, "We're gonna be up against some crazy Men of Letters and while your angel mojo sure is handy, you're gonna need to learn how to shoot better."

"My shooting is fine," Castiel argued, following nonetheless.

"Fine isn't good enough," Dean rebutted. They had reached the shooting range. All of the targets, human shaped, had dents and marks in them to show years of use. Each had three rings on targets: one on the head, one on the chest, and one on the groin.

Dean grabbed a small handgun and selected an aisle.

"Watch," He called to Cas, who stood back at a safe distance. He nodded and Dean turned to the target and fired three clean shots; one in each bullseye. He turned back with a proud grin.

"Impressive," Casteil admitted, "But it can't be that hard."

Dean offered his gun to Cas. He stepped forward and stubbornly took it, stepping into the aisle where Dean had been shooting.

He raised the weapon with both hands to his eye level. It had been a long time since he had used a gun, and he was pretty sure that it had been with a larger, longer one. A shotgun, if he was correct.  
  
He fired three times, aiming for the same spots that Dean hit. But the bullet didn't been hit the outline of the human.

Cas turned to Dean in frustration, only to find him laughing.

"Alight," he grumbled, "Maybe it can be that hard."

"Don't sweat it," Dean said with a smile, holding back the laughter. He picked up another, similar gun and turned the safety on, coming to stand beside Castiel.

"Here," he suggested, getting into a shooting stance, "You want to plant your feet a little bit, get some stability. Thankfully, handling a gun is not as delicate as handling a bow. With this, you just gotta keep steady and fix your aim. See how I'm doing it?"

Cas looked at the way Dean was standing. He tried to mimic and brought the gun up again, but this time, his hands were a little shaky. Cas wasn't sure why, since it wasn't like they were on a hunt or anything. It was just shooting practice.

But...the weapon did feel foreign in his hands. He had grown attached to his angel blade, it was his preferred weapon. And while Cas understood the importance of appropriate weaponry, he wasn't sure that he liked guns all that much. Too flashy, too much.

While Cas was trying to steady himself, Dean walked over and stood immediately behind him, so close that Castiel could feel his heat.

Dean reached his right arm out, grabbing Cas's elbow to stop his hands from shaking.

"Steady," He said, moving his head beside Castiel's to get a better viewpoint, "Now aim a little higher. That's it. We're looking to shoot at the centre of the head."

Cas's cheeks were starting to feel a little warm, and he thanked Go- uh, Chuck, that Dean hadn't noticed or said anything. His hands weren't shaking as badly, now that Dean was helping to steady them. He was a little angry that Dean was so close to him. Did he really not know what he did to Cas? Not that Castiel had a great sense of personal space, but Dean was surely invading his.

"Alright," Dean continued in a soft, patient tone, "Pull the trigger when you're ready."

Cas took a breath to steady himself and counted to three. He pulled the trigger and a single shot rang out, followed by the ding! of the bullet hitting the target. There was a new mark, closer to the centre of the target.

"Alright Cas," Dean said happily, "That was good! Next time, aim for the chest, and try a little to the left. Your aim's off just a bit to the right."

"Understood," Cas said curtly, moving his arms to do so. Dean still had not backed off and Cas was not sure he really wanted him to.

Cas aimed for the target in the centre of the chest, but he could to quite focus. All of the times that Dean had told him about personal space flashed through his mind. Of course, the last one had been years ago and Dean had since apparently changed the size of his "personal space".  
  
The bullet hit the target, closer this time.

"Damn," Dean said proudly, "You're getting pretty good at this."

"I am a fast learner." Cas said simply, lowering his arms to aim at the groin.

"Ha! I bet," Dean laughed, "You watch one porno and as soon as you turn human, you bang a reaper. But, she did kill you afterwards, so it makes me wonder how much she actually liked it."

"Really?" Cas asked with some frustration, not moving, "I'm sure my death by her hands had nothing to do with the night before. And I didn't so much as learn as be guided by human instinct."

"Whatever you say, big guy," Dean teased, "Now you're aiming for the crotch."

"I know."

"Then shoot."

Cas took a breath and pulled back the trigger. The bullet hit, right in the centre.

"Nice!" Dean said excitedly, taking a few steps back from Cas, "I have to say, I am impressed."

"Thank you," Cas said, putting the safety on the gun and setting it down on the stall counter, "And thank you, for teaching me."

Dean clapped his shoulder and smiled, "No prob, Cas."

They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, just standing there, staring. It wasn't completely unusual for them, these looks. Cas always wondered what they meant, but Dean had never elaborated.

"It's good to have you back, Dean," Cas finally spoke, not breaking eye contact.

"It's good to be back." Dean glanced down, at Cas's chin, maybe? "Honestly, I don't think I'm quite ready to call it quits yet."

"Oh?" Cas asked, "Is there something you wish to do?"

Dean sighed, "Sorta, yeah. I don't know, really. I'm sure I've said this before, but there are things, people, feelings, that I want to experience. There's still so much I want to do, but with our life, I know it's unrealistic to want to try and do it all."

"Well you did have sex with your favourite pornstar," Cas smiled.

Dean was confused for a moment, then laughed, taking his hand off of Cas's shoulder.

"Yeah, I can cross that off my bucket list. But there's still a lot more left unchecked on it."

"Like what?"

Dean shrugged and looked down the shooting range, turning and shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
"I've kinda always wanted to go to Canada."

"Really?" Cas turned to stand beside him, staring at nothing.

"Yeah," Dean turned his head slightly to look at Cas and Castiel met his gaze, "We've travelled north, but never that far. Border patrol and all that. But it seems like a nice place. Good people, clean air, wholesome food." Dean suddenly laughed, "I tried poutine once, up in North Dakota. Some French Canadian had moved down and opened up a restaurant. But when I tried to find another place that sold it, it tasted terrible. Heard they have good sweets too. Not to mention the maple syrup."

"Then let's go to Canada," Cas decided, "After we find Sam, we'll go on a road trip and head north. Travel across the True North. I can show you some lovely nature places. Algonquin Park is one of my personal favourites, and Lake Brandy is comforting, as well as Deer Lake."

"You've been to Canada?"

"Dean," Cas scoffed, "I frequented Canada before it was Canada."

"Yeah," Dean said happily, "I bet." He turned fully to face Cas and Cas did the same, "To Canada, after we find Sam."

"To Canada," Cas promised.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So this one shot was inspired by a piece of destiel called "steady". I found it on tumblr, but I'm not sure who the artist is. The totally get a credit, because that little black-and-white drawing gave me the idea for this series. So creds to them, whomever they are.


End file.
